


Haunted

by geniusphilester (gorgeousnerd)



Series: PFF Bingo 2019 [4]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Universe - Magic, Astral Projection, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 04:36:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20942384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gorgeousnerd/pseuds/geniusphilester
Summary: Five times Phil Lester was haunted, and one time he haunted back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the haunting space on my bingo card.
> 
> I took some liberties here and there with canon (not just counting the whole astral projection thing). Each chapter has specific content notes, so you can choose to skip to the next chapter if you'd like, but some of the big ones include the implication of Dan's bullying at school/Dan's tough childhood, reactions to the VDay video outing (the second time), being in the closet, deliberately inflated side effects from not taking antidepressants, references to the deaths in Phil's family in 2017, money worries, and discussions of Phil's dad's cancer/reacting to that.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes: Depression/family mental illness, implied reference to Dan being bullied at school.

The first time it happened, Phil hadn't met Dan in the flesh yet.

It was October 2009, and Phil talked to Dan through MSN and text and Skype and, very occasionally, actual phone calls. Dan hadn't bought the train ticket to Manchester yet, but they were circling the moment.

Phil didn't remember the circumstances surrounding the moment well, but Dan had signed off the night before more distraught than usual. What had he been upset about? Uni? Working? His parents? Likely, some combination of the three. He didn't answer Phil's follow-up texts to make sure that he was okay, and Phil had tried to tell himself that Dan was okay and that Phil hadn't ruined things forever, but it hadn't exactly worked. He vague tweeted a couple of times before going to bed.

When he woke up the next morning, there was a figure in his bed with him. Well. For the five seconds Phil was in bed before he fell out the side with a thump and a cry.

He shook a little as he pushed himself back up the side of his bed.

The first thing he noticed was that the figure was see-through. Silver, like a person pulled out of an old Hollywood film or something. Phil saw the wall opposite turned dark before he saw the definition of the figure. It was person-shaped, and for a moment he felt a weird mix of terror and triumph. It had to be the ghost that he had always suspected had haunted his house and that everyone else dismissed.

Except the ghost's head turned, and fuzziness sharpened into recognisable lines.

"Dan?" Phil whispered.

Because it was none other in the shape of Daniel Howell. He had seen him on Dailybooth looking exactly like this...well, a little more colourful, but the hair, the shirt and pyjama bottoms...Phil knew them.

Phil rubbed his eyes. It felt cartoon levels of comical, like his eyes were going to bug out of his head, but to be fair, he'd never seen the ghost of a man he'd fancied before.

Silver Dan smiled wearily. "Don't worry, Phil. I'm fine. I promise."

His voice sounded clearer than his body looked. It was the voice that Phil had heard over the phone, had seen on his computer, but like he was here with Phil instead of hundreds of miles away.

Without entirely realising what he was doing, Phil climbed back on the bed and reached out for Dan. His hand went straight through his form.

Dan smiled again, sadder this time, and disappeared.

Phil stared at the empty space where Dan had been, at the duvet where his hand was resting. He rubbed his hand on the top of the bed, but it didn't feel warmer or colder than the rest of the bed that hadn't had Phil touching while he'd been sleeping.

Sleeping. This had all happened in bed. Was Phil dreaming?

His phone buzzed where it was charging on his bedside table. He fumbled for it, and then nearly dropped it when he saw Dan had sent him a text.

_i told you im fine, you spoon :] go back to sleep_

Well. It hadn't been a dream, then.

-

They very carefully didn't talk about it before they met for the first time, although Phil kept questioning whether or not he had a ghost friend haunting the internet whenever they talked. They very carefully didn't talk about it during Dan's first meeting, although Phil was extremely relieved to be able to be in Dan's presence and poke him and meet solid flesh. They very carefully didn't talk about it in London during Halloween, although Phil kept thinking how grateful he was that Dan hadn't picked a ghost costume for the gathering.

It was only when they were in Phil's house, during a longer visit, that Phil slipped up.

The house was making strange sounds, as it so often did. He was spooning with Dan in bed - he was the little spoon that day, which was nice - and he jerked at a loud creak.

"It's the house settling," Dan told Phil, almost like he was nervous himself. "That's all it is."

Phil laughed. "Don't tell me you're afraid of ghosts?"

The laughter died in his mouth when he realised what he said. He slapped his hand over his lips, but it was too late.

Luckily, Dan laughed, too. "I'm not a ghost, you spork. It's...some kind of astral projection, I think. Or at least that's what my family says."

"But you looked like a ghost," Phil said, lowering his hand long enough to say it before clapping it back again. He really should stop talking, full stop.

"I feel like one, too." Dan sighed heavily. "And I've seen members of my family doing it. Honestly, that's probably why I am scared of ghosts. Very unsettling to see that as a small child."

There was a heavy moment of silence, like Dan wanted to say something. But he didn't.

"You saw it all through childhood?" Phil said. He couldn't stand the silence, but he couldn't think of anything decent to say.

Dan sighed against his neck. "Not until primary school. It happened before, but I couldn't see them until then."

Phil's brain whirred for a moment. Something had made Dan start to see the...ghosts of his family? Sort of? So it meant not everyone could see them. But Phil had seen Dan. What did that mean?

His mouth was faster than his train of thought. "You were my first. Mum always said we had psychic abilities running in our family, but I never believed her until now."

A pause, and then Dan chuckled again. "Psychic Lesters," he murmured. "Suppose I'll have to watch myself around you lot."

_Not if I watch you first,_ Phil thought, and it was only a little bit nonsensical.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Outing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes: Forced outing (VDay video edition).

The video had leaked again.

Phil stared at his alerts in horror. 

It took him a little while to come back to himself. He felt like he was in uni again, seeing the screencap that his Rawtenstall friend had taken of his dating profile. Except this meant a lot of other things. It risked his money, his career, his place in London. It risked his friendships.

And it risked...

Oh god. Dan was still in bed.

He scrambled off the couch and passed almost immediately through Dan's ghost, falling to the ground in surprise. Dan watched him with his dull, silver eyes before settling on the couch and turning his gaze toward the wall.

Phil hadn't seen Dan's ghost-projection thing much since they'd moved in together. Really, not since Dan's first week of uni, when he had physically been on campus but he'd haunted Phil's Manchester flat almost constantly. It had been a relief when actual Dan had arrived with his laundry and basically hadn't left.

But Phil had learned a lot in that time. When to give Dan his space, when to coexist with what little parts of him could be present, when to find his physical form. Dan hated how dependent he often was on Phil during that time, but he also needed someone around, and back then, he'd had no idea what to do with the fact that Phil was there for him. That much had gotten better. They both knew how to lean on each other.

But seeing the ghost of Dan, barely visible on their sofa...

Phil got to his feet and went into the bedroom. Dan's bedroom, as far as their subscribers knew; Phil mostly used the wicker bed if he couldn't sleep and he didn't want to bother Dan. They'd bought Dan's bed together for both of their tastes and made the sheets under the duvet colourful, especially if Dan wasn't planning on filming. Phil had never been as good about laundering his bedsheets in his entire life as he was when they were both making videos.

Dan was in bed on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't look over when Phil came in, but he made a small noise when Phil climbed in and wrapped himself around Dan. They were both in their pants, and Phil hoped the skin contact would feel nice to Dan.

-

Neither Dan nor his ghost spoke for a week.

It wasn't like Dan didn't exist on the internet, or do any work. He did. But he barely got out of bed, and his ghost, which was usually a little better about spending time with Phil and watching anime with him and talking through their video ideas, mostly hovered silently near Phil when Phil wasn't in their bedroom. And in their bedroom, a couple times. Like, Phil urging Dan out of bed to shower resulted in two sets of Dan's eyes staring at nothing, past Phil's shoulder. It was almost like Dan was trying to be present and couldn't figure out how.

It didn't feel like there was a lot of room for Phil to be upset. It wasn't Dan's fault. But Phil's life was so entangled with Dan's, and Dan was so poorly, that there was nowhere Phil could go that wasn't touched by Dan. And he didn't feel like he could get space. He didn't _want_ space. But he needed it.

He ended up crying in the toilet at the end of the week, mostly by accident. The tears had sprung up on their own, pushing past the burn of anxiety that Phil had been dealing with so long he'd mostly learned to ignore it, and he thought idly that maybe the loo was the best place to feel his emotions, and that was it. Heaving sobs, wracking his body but barely leaving his mouth, since he'd shoved his hands over it.

That's how he could hear a quiet tapping on the door...however long it was later. Phil couldn't stifle the sniffles or gulping he had to fight past to speak.

"Y-yes?"

"Is the door locked?"

A shuddering breath escaped Phil. It didn't sound pretty, but it felt great. He hadn't heard Dan speak in so long.

"No," he said.

The door swung open, and Dan, fully physical and present, stood above him. He was paler than normal, eyes puffy with unshed tears.

"Hi," Dan said, voice cracking a bit.

Phil opened his arms to him, and they curled up together and cried.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loneliness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes: Being closeted, having a cold.

The thing about TATINOF was that Dan couldn't not be present. The thing about TATINOF was that it made it easier for Dan to be present.

The thing about TATINOF was that, on quiet nights alone and in separate hotel rooms, Dan's ghost came to Phil.

They had queens together in one room sometimes, but they had different rooms more often than not, and Dan felt they had to use them. They would eat dinner together, and they would talk about the day and watch mindless telly and bant, and they would part ways to sleep.

But Phil wasn't sleeping, not right away. He hadn't slept without Dan in so long, he'd forgotten how to do it. He'd brought his pillow from home to trick himself into thinking they were in their bed, but it had to be the pillowcase from his set bed, and even though it was nice to have something to hug, it felt wrong.

Still, he managed for a bit...until they got to America, and they were near each other on the bus, even if they weren't sleeping in the same place. (Although they often did; a big bed in a private lounge? Not the most discrete, but Phil would get up to wee and Dan would be awake and they'd go back to the lounge together without saying a word to each other.)

That made the hotel nights harder. Phil stopped sleeping in the hotels entirely, and then he got sick, which was his own fault, really. Touring was a marathon, and something like sleep meant the difference between bouncing around stage with energy and falling ill with the death plague.

But it also solved another problem for Phil; he started sleeping during the day when Dan was around, and Phil didn't have to worry about what people would think. Honestly, he'd been getting tired enough that he didn't much care what people thought anyway - hence the sharing the lounge now and then, probably - but Dan cared, and nothing mattered to Phil more than Dan.

The second night he was sick was a hotel night. Phil had been so drowsy most of the day that he figured a little sleepy cold medicine and a still bed would be more than enough for him to sleep. But his nose decided to run and the medicine made him restless, so he fell asleep, sneezed himself awake twenty minutes later, fell back asleep for five minutes, and jerked awake again.

With a sigh, he texted Dan.

_are you awake. this cold is rubbish_

Dan answered right away.

_why are you awake????_

Phil laughed, which turned into a cough. He rested on his back for a moment to let his breathing settle before he texted Dan again.

_told you, rubbish cold_

He paused after he sent it, and then followed up with _come to me_.

It was sent before he could wince, but the cringe quickly followed. Phil Lester was a grown man. A grown man with a business and a career and a long-term relationship, and he should be able to endure a few nights sick without his boyfriend from said long-term relationship.

But Dan entered the room so quickly that Phil thought he'd probably started making his way before Phil had asked for his presence.

"Sorry," Phil croaked. "Just miss you."

"You see me all day long, you spoon." But Dan sounded happy. Somehow, he'd missed Phil, too. They'd been together for years, and Phil still couldn't fathom how Dan would want him around so much.

Dan let himself in bed and big spooned Phil. It was perfect.

-

The next hotel night was three days after, and Phil was mostly out of the worst of the cold, but he hated parting ways with Dan at the elevators. He was still poorly enough that he had to go to sleep right away, so their usual dinner and telly was out. They'd gotten food on the way to the hotel, and Phil wasn't even going to manage to make it to the showers before flopping in bed.

But Phil's room wasn't empty when he got there.

Dan's ghost was already in bed, lying atop the sheets like he always did. He smiled faintly at Phil as he walked in.

"Get to bed, Lester," he said in his ghost voice.

"You all right?"

"As I ever am. You can think about yourself for a change, you know."

Phil laughed, dropping his luggage on the floor. If Dan had his way, he'd never do anything else.

He didn't bother changing into his pyjamas. He just kicked off his jeans and climbed under the sheets, trying to breathe in his pillow instead of the weird mix of musty and sterile that hotels always seemed to have.

Dan looked happy, smiling down at him. His ghost hadn't been happy like this since they were hundreds of miles apart, meeting Phil before they met.

"Shame we can't..." Phil covered a yawn. "Shame we can't spoon."

"Shut up and go to sleep."

Phil hugged his pillow. Sleep came easily enough that it was like Dan was holding him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Withdrawing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes: Purposely exaggerated side effects from not taking antidepressants, references to the deaths in Phil's family in 2017.

Dan didn't have his meds, and he was ill.

It was the most ghost-like his projection had ever been. It wailed while Dan cried silently in bed.

It walked through walls when Dan was shaking over the toilet, trying not to vomit and failing. It actually rattled some of their things scattered about the flat, which Phil hadn't even known it could do; it had never been able to touch anything before.

Maybe that was the difference. Before, it was Dan, just a...less present version? This was an "it". This was nothing but pure, primal force. Maybe more a poltergeist than a ghost.

Half the week, Phil wondered if the flat would fall down around their heads. It was silly, of course. Even if it could move a stuffy a couple centimetres and wail at night like some distant howl, it couldn't tear down the walls. But Phil wanted it to, if only it would get everything to stop.

But Dan got back on his medication, and the ghost disappeared again, and it was only then that Phil got to feel how tired worrying had left him.

Dan's sleep had been erratic over the week. A couple days, he slept almost the duration of a day, which was almost a mercy for Dan and the ghost, who wasn't around when Dan slept. Other times, he didn't sleep for nearly a full day, which left the ghost crying and rattling and appearing through things in front of Phil, like it was trying to ask for help without being able to ask.

It was appropriate because Phil didn't have any way to help.

Well, beyond making sure that Dan survived the basics. Phil made sure the bedroom was extra dark, that Dan's favourite easy-eating items were handy, that he ate something with a vitamin now and then, that he drank fluids, especially after vomiting. Its mundanity was oddly difficult, and the difficulty was oddly mundane. How weren't humans so evolved that the little things were still always so vital, and so boring?

Dan wasn't 100% when he got back on his meds, either. It took time to readjust, and there was some talk with his doctor about whether he should even go up to the old dose again, since he'd spent so much time deprived of it. In the end, Dan and his doctor agreed that starting to titrate off might be the best way to go.

Phil was at the appointment where it was decided, feeling as pale and hollowed-out as Dan's ghost had looked. Dan, at one point, looked at Phil silently to ask what his thoughts were. Phil gave a tiny shrug in response, his concession to his lack of knowledge on the subject.

He wasn't guiding the rocket. He was just clinging on for the ride.

Dan slept more after the lower dose. And then, two months later, even more, when they dropped the dose again. It was a slow return in the middle of Phil's life continuing to happen, Phil's job continuing to exist, Phil's family dying unexpectedly. They'd wanted their careers. Phil still wanted his. And nothing would happen if Phil wasn't together enough to make it all work. Dan had to put himself back together, and Phil hated that fact as much as he always did. Perhaps more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Planning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes: Anxiety.

The Interactive Introverts tour starting was a relief. It was like TATINOF, long and exhausting and intense, but it was different.

Dan was different.

He was more open to sharing hotel rooms, even if it was two queens instead of a king. (For appearances, of course; even if they were both giants, they both used the same bed whenever possible.) They both had bunks instead of a bed in the lounge. Phil could hear Dan sleeping most nights, whether it was because he was breathing directly in his ear or rolling over in his bus bunk. He didn't worry so much about covering up the moments on stage that got flirtier or more obvious than they'd expected. It was like TATINOF, but a more enjoyable version for both of them.

There were some different stresses, of course, at least on Phil's end. A bit of concern about money, if Asia wasn't going to earn out and they'd have to fund some of it from their pockets. A different, more improvised show that involved things like shooting slingshots and electric shocks. (Not that Phil didn't enjoy shocking Dan, and not like Dan didn't enjoy being shocked.) But overall, it felt so much better.

It didn't surprise Phil that he didn't get sick on this tour in quite the same way he had last time. There was the occasional sniffle, but between being diligent about his hand sanitizer and sleeping well, it was nothing his immune system wouldn't kick out the door.

It also didn't surprise Phil that he didn't see Dan's ghost for most of the tour. Dan was bearing up well, despite the fact that they had given up exercise temporarily and were back on their various carb obsessions (Dan's pizza and bread and fifty-million dips, and Phil's desserts). They were them, on tour.

And then they were in India, the night after their last show, and Dan's ghost reappeared while he was asleep.

How was Dan still surprising Phil with this when they'd been together so long? He thought he'd seen it all, but he had gotten up to get a drink of water, and when he started back toward bed, Dan was pacing around the room as a ghost...while Dan was asleep. Dan had never projected like this asleep before that Phil had seen - Phil hadn't thought it was possible - and he'd seen Dan asleep a lot, especially when he was depressed and more inclined to oversleep.

Ghost Dan didn't look at Phil, or speak to him. He was muttering under his breath like regular Dan did while he was awake.

"What's wrong?" Phil asked softly. He didn't want to wake up Dan if he didn't have to. He wasn't sure if ghost Dan was awake enough to notice him. 

Ghost Dan kept pacing, but he did speak aloud to Phil. "What if this is it, Phil? What if we go through with it and we lose everything we've built and we have to go a different direction?"

Phil blamed his momentary confusion on the fact that he wasn't fully awake. "Go through with...oh."

Dan must have been working on his coming-out video script again. The thing was enormous, and had grown too giant to finish this June, so Dan had mostly shelved it to go on tour. Phil hadn't realised he'd bothered thinking about it at all while they were touring, but of course Dan had. Nothing about this part of their lives could be left up to chance.

Phil sat on the end of the bed where sleeping Dan's feet weren't and near where ghost Dan was pacing. "Thought you wanted to branch out a bit from the joint branding."

"I do. I need to. It's just..."

_Safe._ Phil's brain filled in the word for Dan. The Dan and Phil brand had things set up well. They had their gaming channel and their PINOF series and their days in the life, and knowing what was coming next made it easy to plan and move forward. It didn't make it easy to grow and change.

Phil didn't say that a lot of the audience knew, even if they did. (They didn't know the complete truth, which did make a difference.) Phil also didn't say that they had been meeting queer fan after queer fan at the meet and greets on tour, although they were. He might have said these things when they were younger, like he was trying to outsmart Dan's fears, but knowing things logically didn't mean actually knowing them.

Instead, he carefully laid a hand on sleeping Dan's foot and rubbed it. Ghost Dan paused his pacing.

"We don't know anything about the future," Phil said. "But you know you've got me as long as you want me. You can always know that."

Ghost Dan turned toward Phil. He glided toward Phil instead of pacing again (or disappearing and reappearing, or walking, or the many other ways Phil had seen the projection move) and sat on the bed.

"You've got me, too," Dan said. "I guess I just worry about how much of our life is the work, and how much of it is us."

That was the hard thing about what they did, and, oddly, the nice thing about tour. When they were at home making videos, everything bled together. The gaming channel wasn't quite as bad, since that had its own room, but they sometimes left filming from their beds and went straight to editing and then to dinner. It was almost like their exaggerated performance selves were ghosts haunting their lives...or maybe that the most authentic Dan and Phil were haunting their videos. Maybe both.

Tour, oddly, made it easier. They met the audience before the show as them. They did the show as the characters. They went to bed as themselves.

It made sense that Dan would have postponed this crisis until the very end of tour.

"We'll have to shift our boundaries," Phil said, realising it as he said it aloud. "It won't be easy."

Maybe he sounded a little worried because ghost Dan shifted closer. He seemed a bit more relaxed, though, like Phil meeting him where he was meant he could ease back.

"But it's worth it," Dan said. He wasn't asking.

Phil nodded. He firmly believed that.

Ghost Dan leaned over and kissed Phil's cheek. He felt the touch of Dan's lips like they were solid and real on his skin.

And then Phil opened his eyes.

It was morning in Mumbai; there was a glow coming from beyond the curtains, and an increase in traffic sounds. Phil frowned at the curtains until he realised what had happened.

He'd never dreamt ghost Dan before. And that conversation had been so much like a real conversation they would have.

When he rolled over, Dan was awake and looking carefully at Phil.

"Did you..." Phil asked.

Dan's eyes widened. "Did you?"

"Wow," Phil said, after they'd both laughed a little at themselves. "Whose dream were we in, do you think?"

"I came to yours, clearly. It's not like you've randomly walked around my dreams before." Dan waggled his eyebrows. "Not that I haven't had dreams about you."

Phil snorted and pushed at Dan a bit. Dan snorted in his exaggerated facsimile of Phil's snort and pushed back before wrapping his arms around Phil and pulling him closer. Phil hummed happily.

"We're okay," Dan said.

There was a painful sincerity to his words. Dan fully and truly believed it. So often his words would be tinged with doubt, or self-loathing, or worry. But in this moment, Dan seemed completely sure about the two of them.

"Glad you found me last night," Phil murmured, eyes drooping closed again.

"Glad I found you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes: Phil's dad's cancer, depression as a reaction to family illness.

Phil had gone up north to hear the news, but he sort of knew when his parents had called him and asked him to visit and wouldn't tell him why. Martyn was there as well, and he looked as devastated as Phil felt, but he didn't look surprised, either.

Phil's dad had cancer.

The initial adrenaline of the reveal fueled less a panicked rush to fix it and more of a steady burn to be okay, to be ready to drop the radio show and come home and take care of Dad. But Nigel wouldn't hear of it, of course.

"I like listening to your show," he said. "And besides, it's better that than moping around with your father with nothing to do."

Kath nodded in agreement. "You and Dan are doing such big things, love."

Phil smiled and agreed like he was okay.

He wasn't okay.

-

It was easy to look okay when responsibilities were all around. When Phil was uploading to YouTube - he wouldn't want anyone feeling like he did to miss out on their fun, if they watched his videos looking for that - and when he doing something with the BBC, when he was helping Dan edit or when he was taking whatever opportunities landed in his email.

But there was a weekend where nothing had lined up. Dan had specifically asked not to be booked for anything, Phil's latest video was uploaded and he didn't have his next idea yet, his mum encouraged him to stay home instead of going north to see them...there was nothing but quiet.

Phil was beginning to learn that he didn't do well with quiet.

He spent the first evening circling around online. Dan ordered takeout and they ate and made whale noises and it was fine, it was _fine_.

Phil woke up the next day and couldn't seem to get out of bed.

It was strange. He usually couldn't stop moving, couldn't stop doing things, couldn't stop working. and the world had forced him to take a break and his body was just...done. 

Was this how Dan felt when he was low? Phil didn't think so; there was an edge of panic that made him poke around on his phone over and over again, and Dan just pretty much stopped. Phil wanted to do things, but his body wouldn't respond to his urgent GET UP GET UP thoughts.

God, and he didn't even have any water by the bed, so his bladder couldn't solve the problem.

He gave up and went back to sleep.

He woke up again when Dan sat on the bed and brushed at his hair. "You poorly?" Dan asked in a low voice.

Phil shrugged a bit. He wasn't sure if Dan was asking if he was ill, which he wasn't, but it wasn't exactly like Phil was well, either.

Tears sprang to his eyes unbidden, and he tried to squeeze them away.

He thought Dan might wrap him into a cuddle, but instead, the bed shifted in the way it did when one of them got out of it. Honestly, it was a bit of relief. Phil didn't want Dan to have to deal with him like this. It felt like the last thing he could afford was to be a burden.

"Phil."

Phil rolled over. Dan was standing over him with the duvet from his set bedroom, arms extended.

"Just start by sitting up," Dan said.

Phil did, pushing to lean against the headboard. It was far, far harder than it had any right to be, and the effort exhausted him.

"Feet on the floor."

That much was easier, at least. It was more letting his legs move than moving them himself. But more of him was bared, since he'd shifted out of the covers, and he was only in his boxer briefs. He shivered a bit.

Dan immediately went forward, wrapping Phil in the duvet he had brought in and taking his weight. He half lifted Phil up, which Phil would have enjoyed a lot on any other day. On this particular one, he was just worried.

"Don't wanna hurt you," Phil murmured.

"You're not," Dan said. "Let's go to the sofa."

Phil thought it would get easier as he moved, but it wasn't. It was like moving tore down all the defenses he'd been keeping up to keep from melting down. Each step or shuffle or whatever made it that much harder to hold back the tears he'd been keeping back for weeks.

After an eternity consisting of probably a minute or two, Phil was sat on the sofa in his usual spot, wrapped in the duvet. The relief of not having to move was enormous.

Dan handed him a glass of water and sat next to him. He didn't go for the crease; he perched on the edge of the sofa, close enough to Phil to squish the duvet.

Phil took a sip. It was about all he could manage around the lump in his throat.

Dan didn't watch Phil, which was a relief. He poked at his phone a bit, but mostly he was just...there. And that was something Phil hadn't expected. He personally felt like he wasn't entirely there, but Dan was the most solid and real he'd ever been, somehow.

"I don't..." Phil sighed, looking down into the glass. "I don't know if I can drink all of this right now."

"Give it a couple more sips, and then I'll get you a little food." When Phil winced, Dan smiled. "Very little, I promise. Just enough to ease my anxiety."

God, Dan knew Phil too well. Would Phil eat around his churning stomach and mercurial mood? No. Would he do it for Dan?

He'd do anything for Dan, really.

So he took a couple more sips of water, and Dan got Phil a small bowl of cereal, and Phil's eyes welled up as he ate a couple bites.

Food finished, Phil stretched out on the sofa and stared at the floor. He heard Dan fussing with the TV, but he didn't look up until he heard the music on one of the Buffy DVD menus.

"Just for background," Dan said, as he took the end of the sofa by Phil's feet. "You don't have to pay attention or anything."

At first, as one of the episodes started and Sunnydale High came into view, and Phil saw the duvet like the one he'd had at his parents', he'd wondered if Dan had misstepped. The lump in his throat got bigger, and his breath got more shallow. Phil hadn't panicked much, but this felt like the edge of a weird despair-panic attack combo.

But then the theme music went, and just like that, everything Phil was feeling just...didn't feel as bad. Buffy was Phil's life raft. He had the space to feel bad and to also feel like the bad feelings wouldn't be his existence forever.

Dan spent the first episode rubbing gently at Phil's feet. He moved Phil during the second episode so that Phil's head was cradled in his lap and he could play with his hair. It felt absolutely incredible.

"How are you so good at this," Phil murmured, half-asleep.

"I learned from the best."

"Oh yeah? Who?"

Dan snickered. It took Phil way too long to catch up to his meaning.

"Oh, me? But I'm not...I don't..."

Dan didn't answer, but he didn't really need to.

It didn't feel comparable. Dan literally left his own body when he felt really terrible, and while it wasn't no effort to help him get through those times, Phil never registered what he did for Dan as effort. It felt as natural to him as breathing.

Phil sighed. "Is this what it feels like? For you?"

"I mean, I can't say for sure. I'd guess not? But I also think a lot of the same things help." Dan rubbed a hand down Phil's back. "Just relax. You can do what your body needs this weekend. We'll pick things up again on Monday."

For the first time, Phil understood what the appeal in leaving his body would be. He gave himself up to it, let himself drift, solid in the knowledge that Dan had him.

Dan would always have him.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr post!](https://geniusphilester.tumblr.com/post/188201737396/haunted-5816-words-by-geniusphilester-chapters)


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